Bonds Of Freedom
by Legatum
Summary: Day 19 of the fanfic 2018 Advent Calendar! In a faraway land, a poor young outcast named Israel struggles to survive. Friendless and alone, an encounter with a mysterious man will give him the strength to face his destiny, and change the future of the world.


Christmas is a time for hope...

* * *

The young boy gasped with pain as the toe of a boot dug into his side. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around his torso in a futile attempt to protect himself.

Surrounding him were three older boys. Swarthy and dirty, no one would have guessed that they were the sons and heirs of the three most powerful families in the country. Their faces were masks of hate and cruelty, and their eyes gleamed with malice. The first of the three, Iraq, kicked their helpless victim for a second time.

"Take that you dog! We'll teach you to show your face around here"!

The second boy, Egypt, spit on the prostrate figure.

"We warned you what would happen if we ever saw you within a mile of here, now you pay the price"!

The third boy, Syria, reached down, grabbed a fistful of the younger boy's hair, and leaned over until their faces were inches apart.

"Now you..."

His sneering voice cut off as the younger boy spat in his face. With a roar of rage, Syria slammed the boy's face into the ground, and drew his foot back for a kick that would have shattered ribs had it connected. But before it could, a voice rang out.

"That will be enough."

The three turned, and found them selves facing a tall young man with a bag slung over his shoulder. He wore a long trench coat, and his blond hair peeked out from under a military style cap. His bright blue eyes were set in a strong, handsome face, and the look in them was anything but friendly.

"Who the hell are you?" Iraq sneered.

"Just a passing traveler." The man answered.

"Well, just keep passing on." Iraq snapped. "This is none of your business"!

"I beg to differ," Came the calm reply. "Where I come from, when someone sees three thugs beating up a defenseless boy, they consider it their civic duty to stop it."

The three turned red with shock and anger.

"Thugs! Do you have any idea who we are?" Egypt screamed. "We are Iraq, Egypt, and Syria! Our families rule this land, and they will cut off your head for your insolence"!

The man raised his eyebrow. "Really? I should have guessed. You three are every bit as disgusting as I heard you were, even more so, in fact. You look more like rabid sewer rats that royalty."

By this point, the three were practically apoplectic with rage.

"You're a dead man"! They screeched.

The man dismissed their threats with a wave of his hand. "I doubt that. Now run on home, before I'm forced to resolve this in a less polite manner." His eyes hardened. "And by the way, tell your fathers that my Uncle Sam sends his regards."

The three recoiled as if struck. All the hate, malice, and arrogance of a moment ago disappeared, replaced by stark terror. Without hesitation, they turned and ran away as fast as their legs could carry them.

"Cowards." The man mumbled. He knelt down next to the boy, who was still laying in the dirt. Unscrewing the top of his canteen, the man held it to his lips.

"Here," He said. "Drink."

The boy grabbed the canteen and greedily drank, water spilling down the corners of his mouth. Finally, his thirst quenched, he handed the canteen back.

"Thank you sir… for everything." He wheezed.

"No need for thanks. Like I said, it's merely one's civic duty where I'm from. What is your name?"

"Israel."

"The man's eyes narrowed. "I see… where do you live Israel? I'll take you home."

Israel averted his eyes, lips trembling.

"I…I don't have a home, sir."

The look on the man's face was sympathetic, yet unsurprised.

"Well, in that case, come with me to my Hotel room. We'll get you a nice hot bath and a good meal."

Hope shone in Israel's eyes for a moment, then died away.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, sir. The man who owns the Hotel would not be happy if you brought me in. I don't want to cause you any trouble."

"Nonsense!" The man exclaimed. "You're coming with me, and if the owner wants to push the issue…"

The look in his eyes sent chills running down Israel's spine.

"...then he'll learn the hard way that I don't like to be pushed."

A short time later, Israel was comfortably situated in the man's room, enjoying his first real meal in months. As expected, the owner had objected strongly to the boy's presence in his establishment. However, a quick but stern conversation was sufficient to ensure the man's cooperation.

As Israel finished his food, the man entered with some newly purchased clothes. As he laid them out, he noticed Israel looking at him.

"You have a question."

Israel nodded. "Why are you doing this for me?"

The man sat down. "Call it a sense of fair play. I know what it's like to have the odds stacked against you, to have powerful enemies that want to crush you into oblivion. Now, tell me about yourself."

Israel shrugged, eyes downcast.

"I'm nobody, my parents were travelers, wanderers with no home. They tried to find a place for us to settle down and live, but something always happened, and we were forced to move on. My dad called it the family curse. He used to tell me that our family has wandered for generations, searching for a home.

"And where are your parents now?" The man asked gently.

Israel desperately tried to hold back tears as he replied.

"My dad died a year ago. Then my mom became sick. They both came from this area, and she brought me here, hoping that she could find a place for me to live. She died just after we got here."

"And you've been on your own ever since." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, and everyone here hates me. They threatened me and my mom when we got here. They said that there was no place in this land for our kind. I still don't know what they meant."

The blond man leaned forward.

"I believe I can help you there. You see, I know a little about your family's history."

Israel jumped up, almost upsetting the table.

"You do? Please please tell me"!

"All right, I will tell you. You see, your family once a ruled part of this land. They were powerful and wise, a kingdom among kingdoms."

Israel sat still, completely transfixed.

"But in time, they grew prideful and corrupt, and their enemies overthrew them. Since that day, your family has been scattered across the world, wanderers without land or country."

"But why do they hate us so much?" Israel asked.

"Your family has always been special, a blessed people. The jealous and ignoble have always targeted you because of it. But the truth is..."

His voice lowered to a whisper.

"...they _fear_ you."

Israel was shocked.

"Fear me? Why?"

"Because you are a threat. Those three that attacked you, Iraq, Egypt, Syria, they are descended from old enemies of your family. More than anything, they fear that your family will return and reclaim their birthright as a great nation. It would mean the beginning of the end for their tyrannical regimes. I believe that _you_ could make that happen.

The boy almost fainted.

"Me!" He exclaimed. "I'm nothing! I'm nobody"!

"That is a lie, that is what they want you to believe, but it isn't true. The blood of kings flows through your veins. You can be a nation among nations once again."

Through the foggy haze that was his current state of mind, Israel heard himself say, as if in a dream, "What must I do?"

The man smiled a smile that was filled with both satisfaction and sorrow.

"Fight, you must fight. To succeed, you must Fight harder than anyone that has come before you, and after you succeed, you must continue to fight. You must realize that because of who you are, you will always have enemies. They have fought your family for thousands of years. They are sworn to destroy you, and they will never, _never_ stop until that goal is accomplished. Sometimes it will seen as if the whole world is your enemy, for you are the Prince Of A Thousand Enemies. You will spend your whole life engaged in a struggle that seemingly has no end. But the rewards will be greater than you can possibly imagine, for you, and for the world. Your friends will be few, but I would be honored to count myself among them.

"You would help me?"

"Yes, I know the cost of freedom, and I also know that it is a jewel beyond price. I would help you claim it for yourself."

"Who are you?" Israel whispered.

The man smiled, and his face shone like the sun.

"My name is America."


End file.
